Leviathan

FACE IN ON:

THE SURFACE OF THE OCEAN

sunny and placid then slowly WE BEGIN DESCENDING UNDERWATER

Moving down from the bright surface waters, through layers

of fish and marine life...

A school of vibrantly colored fish move with the current,

their numbers are enormous, their movements in unison.

Suddenly out of the darkness a barracuda cuts through the

school, taking out four or five before disappearing into the

shadows. The school moves on as if nothing happened,

quickly closing ranks where the missing ones swam only

seconds before.

WE MOVE DEEPER AND DEEPER

Fish disappear, darkness envelopes us. Cold and lifeless

where light has never penetrated...Five thousand feet, ten

thousand. Deeper, where only strange, self-illuminating

echoniderms move eerily through the currents. Then suddenly

WE HEAR STATIC from RADIO TRANSMISSION. THEN VOICES...

JONES:

Burritos...Enchiladas...

DEJESUS:

(hispanic voice)

Oh, gag, man, how can you eat that

stuff?...

BOWMAN:

(female)

I can't wait for fresh vegetables...

Several voices suddenly break into argument..."vegetables?"

"sh*t," "burgers"...Suddenly another voice rises above the

others.

BECK'S VOICE/ RADIO

Okay, cut the chatter. You're

not out of here, yet. Who's the

hook? Seven?...You got a hook on

container 22?

A pause, then more voices.

SIXPACK'S VOICE/ RADIO

(redneck drawl)

The man's asking if you're hooked

on 22, you dumb sh*t.

JONES' VOICE/ RADIO

Watch your mouth, Sixpack. Hello,

Shack, Seven, here. I ain't the hook,

over.

A light flares out of the darkness, suddenly illuminating an

IMMENSE SHAPE--fifteen hundred pounds of hardened metal

nearly seven feet tall. It is a motorized diving suit and

we see the stenciled name, WILLIE across the front

breastplate. As it pivots we see the stationary worklights

around the base of a large underwater mining operation, THE

SHACK. Then a woman's voice.

WILLIE'S VOICE

(woman's voice)

Six to Shack. I'm the hook.

INSIDE THE SHACK/ CONTROL ROOM

littered with papers, half-full coffee cups, and a confusion

of wires and very low-tech, high-tech equipment BECK sits at

the monitor controls. He is younger than we expected,

twenties, clean cut good looks. He'll be a hell of a good-

looking man at thirty-five, he just needs to be hardened.

From the looks of the coffee cups around him he's on his

way.

BECK'S VOICE/ RADIO

Okay, Six, let's wrap this container

and call it a day.

Above him a bank of monitor screens. Each one labeled with

a crew member's name and providing a video picture from a

camera mounted on their helmet. Beck reaches above him and

throws a console switch which activates another monitor

labeled ROV. With a joystick he manipulates an outside

camera(the ROV), its picture we see on the monitor. It is

moving.

UNDERWATER:

WILLIE'S POV The inside of her helmet is a grid of LED

gauges monitoring air reserve, body temperature,

atmospheres, heart rate, blood pressure.

She stops next to a pair of railroad-like tracks and removes

the tool attached to the end of her arm. The move is

practiced and professional, like a cook changing the tool on

a set of egg beaters. First, she inserts the existing tool

into a lock on her opposite arm which holds it while she

disengages the tool. Next, she selects the next tool from

the storage compartment at her waist and punches it into

position. Sixpack's voice comes over the radio.

SIXPACK'S VOICE

Hey, Willie, you trip on a

tit or something? We're all

waiting on you, honey.

WILLIE:

(under control)

Keep your pants on Sixpack.

I promise you'll be inside before

"Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" comes on.

OVER THE RADIO WE HEAR other men's voices laughing. They

like Willie and cheer her on. "Tell him, Willie," "Atta

girl," etc...

Willie CLICKS in her last tool and turns. Expertly she

hooks a large dumpster-like container, the container to what

looks like an underwater parachute--A CONTAINER

TRANSPORTER--which when filled with oxygen it lifts the

massive container onto the tracks where it can be hauled-in

by a winch.

WILLIE'S VOICE

Six to Shack...Hook's on. Ready

to winch.

UNDERWATER MACHINERY

Halogen lights illuminate bits and pieces of dredges and

dumpsters squatting in the gloom. A winch begins grinding

and the big, newly hooked container lurches down the tracks.

It comes to the end where a winch fits it into place with

several others to complete a set. We hear BECK'S VOICE.

BECK/ RADIO

Ok, that's it. Come on in.

More motor suited DIVERS appear, their helmet lights

glaring. Their breastplate names catch in the dim lights:

COBS, BOWMAN, WILLIE.

As they approach the UNDERWATER LOCK, where an elevator will

transport them up into the Shack, we see signs of human

life:
a basketball goal attached to the side of the

building; stickers and signs: "No Bozos," etc. A formal sign

towers over the entrance. It says: TRANSOCEAN CORP. SHACK 6.

ON ONE OF THE CREW

He moves behind the others. Suddenly he freezes in his

tracks and slowly rotates his helmet--on his shoulder in the

glare of his helmet beam WE SEE the a hideous looking SEA

SPIDER. It's thick legs moving eerily down his arm.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the creature, a mechanical

motor hand moves into position below it, and in one quick

movement, snares it.

CLOSE ON METAL WAIST POCKET. The latch opens and the

writhing sea spider is shoved inside. From the pocket WE

MOVE UP the diver's suit until we see the name SIXPACK on

the breastplate. He looks around to see if anyone has

noticed then continues on toward the shack.

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